Consequence
by SpecialCryogonal
Summary: Sometimes the consequences of our actions stretch far and beyond what we expect. As we know, few simple decisions by Cyrus and his parents nearly lead to the end of the universe itself, and this is the tale behind Cyrus' abusive childhood and its consequences on his life. Rated M for violence, abuse, strong language, and self-harm. Please do keep criticism constructive.
1. Prologue

It was the fall of 1978 that Caelum Apophis, son of college professor Franklin Apophis and a rather big-shot engineer himself, married a woman named Alice Karder, who was now in law school to become a prosecution attorney. The two had met in college, and had fallen in love over the last five years.

* * *

May 14, 1979

"What do you mean you don't want a son or daughter?" a twenty-five year old Caelum Apophis asked his wife. He had hinted at the fact that he wanted him and his wife, Alice, to have a child of their own, but this was the first time he had stated it directly. She wasn't taking it well.

"If you think I want a filthy little child running around and mucking up _my _pristine, beautiful, expensive house, you obviously haven't gotten to know me well enough in the last six years. I will not tolerate a disgusting little brat in this household, and that is quite final!" Alice crossed her arms and glared at her husband, her stony grey eyes narrowed and stared into his light blue ones.

Caelum knew that glare meant that he wouldn't receive an opportunity at getting his way this time, but he figured that he might as well try anyway. "Don't you want someone who can look up to us, make us proud, and even help take care of us when we get older? It's a big investment, but it'd be worth having someone to pass our knowledge to and who can carry our family on when we're gone." Caelum's point didn't seem like it was making much of an impact, but who knew, maybe he could convince her yet. "Oh, and let us not forget that it's not just _your_ house, it's both of ours. I paid for it, too, remember?

"Let us also not forget who cleans and takes care of this house, and who will pay much of the bills once she gets her law degree and a job. Anyhow, I don't really want such a legacy enough to warrant eighteen years or more of constant attention to a brat that will most likely only give me attitude back, not to mention the cost of raising a child, even after he or she leaves the house." Alice seemed set in her ways, but Caelum wasn't giving up yet.

"Still, it's my house, too, but that is beside the point," Caelum responded, trying not to look intimidated by his wife's gaze. "I'm not even saying we have to go make a kid this instant, it could wait for a good few years if you want, too. Just imagine, you can tell him or her about the legal process and cleaning, and I can teach our kid about engineering. It'll be-"

"I said no, and that means _no_. Do you understand what I'm trying to get across to you or not?" Alice snapped, and Caelum knew that this discussion was coming to a close.

"How about a Pokémon? We could get a clean one, like a..." Caelum's voice trailed off as Alice's gaze intensified into a death glare. Alice had a definite way of shutting most people up just by staring at them, so long as they knew her well enough. Caelum was certainly one of those people.

* * *

July 23, 1980

"Listen, damn it," pleaded Caelum, "I've already said that I'm sorry it happened. It was an accident, and those things happen, right? It obviously had nothing to do with our discussion last year. Still, the fact remains that we need to find something to do with the baby. I mean, we've already decided against abortion, and adopting the baby out would let people know that we didn't want it to begin with, which in turn would make us look irresponsible. I think the only option is keeping it, and pretending that we wanted a baby in the first place"

Alice sighed, she had been so close to finishing law school, and now this just had to happen. "If you're volunteering to take care of the baby while I'm off at school again and then while I'm working, that's fine with me. Is that what you're saying?"

Caelum knew that Alice wouldn't be happy with the outcome of this conversation no matter what, even if it wasn't technically his fault that circumstance threw a wrench in Alice's plans for a job. "Alice, you know as well as I do that I can't give up my job, we wouldn't even be able to afford to keep the house if that happened. The best plan seems to be for you to stay home and take care of our new child. That is, unless you're up for hiring a caretaker, but I've already heard your perspective on that."

"You sure have, and I won't bother re-iterating why I don't want some stranger in my house. I hate to say it, but you're right, we're out of options. I'll keep the baby." It seemed that Caelum had convinced Alice for the better. Although Caelum figured that he should have been happy, or at least relieved for this, he didn't feel this way for some reason. Oh well, maybe the reason behind his uneasiness wasn't anything to worry about, so Caelum pushed it to the back of his mind.


	2. Chapter 1: Unwanted

December 3, 1981

"I swear, if you cry one more time, you stupid baby, I'm going to smack you! Where is your father? He should have been home hours ago." How was Alice supposed to get anything done around the house when her stupid baby needed attention every time she started something?

Cyrus. That's what she had named him at Caelum's suggestion. Caelum, he was the other problem. Alice's husband was never around to help Alice with anything, he had too much to do at work. No, Alice alone had to deal with that little bundle of responsibilities, and what a waste of time he was. It seemed years since Cyrus was born, yet he was really only nearing his first birthday.

Alice sighed and picked up Cyrus out of his crib. "Stop crying, I'm getting your damn bottle." Cyrus, predictably enough, did not heed Alice's words until she had given him his bottle.

"Stupid baby, where's the ibuprofen? That did not help my headache at all. You know, I hardly ever got headaches before you arrived, and now I get them all the time." Alice glared down at Cyrus, who obviously wasn't comprehending much of her statements. Maybe things would get better when she could actually speak to him and get a response. Probably not.

"I'm putting you back in your crib, can you keep quiet for at least an hour?" After Cyrus was back in his crib, Alice looked around the house. Maybe folding the laundry would get Alice's mind off of the stupid brat.

* * *

April 17, 1983

Ah, legalese, a beautiful symphony of well-worded... hang on, what in god's name was that racket? Alice couldn't concentrate with all that noise. "All right, what do you want, you dumb baby?" Alice wheeled around in her chair and faced the other side of her room, where there was a blue-haired toddler kicking the bars of his crib.

"Want out. Off your screen and let me out," the child demanded. His mother hadn't let him out of his crib all day, and Cyrus was beginning to get a bit stir-crazy. Maybe one day she would even take him to the beach again, like she had a few times before.

"No. Your mother needs to work on her schooling, she's way behind thanks to the likes of you. I'll let you out when I'm done if you shut up for now. How does that sound?" How was Alice supposed to be able to live her life with this stupid waste of time and space? He couldn't even be bothered to get his grammar correct.

"No. Out now. Boring in here. Where's father? He listen." Caelum had been working extra late recently, leaving Cyrus to deal with his mother for the whole day for the last few weeks. True, his father wasn't much better about taking care of Cyrus, but he was at least preferable to Alice.

"For the love of... no. Your father is out at his work now, he won't be back for a few more hours. I really need to work on my schooling, so will you kindly stop making noise?" Again, Alice's plea was lost in the logic of a two-and-a-half-year-old.

Just as Cyrus was about to speak, however, the door to Alice's study opened. "What the hell is going on? Are you seriously trying to reason with a two-year-old, Alice? Really now." Caelum glanced down at Cyrus, then up at his wife. "He probably wants to get out of here, and I don't blame him. What's the last time you took him outside, last month?"

"If he's ever going to listen to me, I figure I might as well start at a young age. Besides, you can't talk, you're at work most of the day. If you want to take him out that much, find time in your own schedule. God forbid you'd actually do something for me for once so that I can have some peace and quiet."

Caelum opened his mouth to argue, but figured Alice had somewhat of a point. Well, it wasn't so much that as much as the fact that Caelum didn't want to be on her bad side, he had already done that one too many times and regretted it. The two adults continued to stare at each other, Caelum backing up ever-so-slightly, but were soon interrupted.

"Let me out. Now. Wasting time." Cyrus kicked the bars of his crib again, in case his words weren't getting the message across.

"Did I ask you to speak?" Alice demanded, shooting another glare at her son. Still, he had a point. Arguing with her husband was proving rather useless, as it certainly wasn't going to get her school work done any faster.

"You take him out, I need to work. Just don't let him ruin anything in my house, or I will make sure that both of you regret it. I'm going back to my work." Alice then turned around and went back to her studying.

"You don't think I'm not busy, too, Alice? I... okay, fine. I'll take him out for a bit." Caelum then picked Cyrus out of his crib, swearing to himself that he'd get around to spending more time with Cyrus.

* * *

July 29, 1984

Caelum never got around to actually keeping his promise, at least not until the next year. Even then, it only happened due to a visit by Caelum's father, Frank. It all started when the four people were sitting around the dinner table, which usually seated the family members at different times. This time, however, Frank was visiting, and Alice didn't want to look like a bad parent who never spent time with her child.

"Oh yes, we take him out quite often. You know, to the park, to the beach, even the marketplace, too. I have plenty to do around the house, but we always make time. Isn't that right, Caelum?" Alice narrowed her eyes at Caelum, who seemed to be about to say something to the contrary.

"Yeah, sure honey, just pass the salt," Caelum muttered.

"That's good, I was just worried that he might not be getting enough fresh air. Ever considered teaching him either law or mechanics? I know he's young, but he seems very bright, he might just understand." Frank smiled over at three-year-old Cyrus, who was currently sorting his peas and carrots into piles.

"Oh, I don't think so. It took enough effort to get him to walk and talk, I doubt he'd do anything with machine pieces other than put them in his mouth. If I taught him law, he'd just walk around threatening to sue me for some made-up purpose." Stupid kid.

"I don't know about that, he's not even putting his food there. As for law, I'm sure he'd love the complex words, he loved it when I talked to him about physics, and even repeated some of the trickier words." replied Frank. He didn't outright state it, but Frank thought that young Cyrus was much smarter than his parents were giving him credit for.

"I don't know about that, he was probably just- Cyrus! Stop playing with your food! If you do that one more time, I'm going to... put you in time out." Alice picked up a spoon and stuck it into one of the neatly sorted piles of peas.

Cyrus, however, pushed Alice's hand away with a look of unmistakable annoyance on his face. "You messed up my formula. Don't do that." Cyrus crossed his arms and regarded his mother with a stare that rather resembled hers.

This seemed to bother Alice even more. "No, you stupid child! It's not a formula, it's your dinner! You don't even know what a formula is. Didn't I tell you to stop using words without knowing their meaning?"

While Alice was yelling at Cyrus, Frank turned to Caelum. "So, do you think you could teach him a thing or two about computers? I don't know if he'll be able to grasp putting them together yet, but he might like using them for now."

"Uh... yeah," Caelum replied, clearly paying more attention to Alice, who was now trying to convince Cyrus to eat, but the boy would have none of it.

"Fine then, starve. It'll be your own damn fault." Alice then proceeded to stop paying attention to Cyrus, and continued on her dinner. Frank, however, had an idea.

"Cyrus, your grandfather wants to show you some more books about outer space, then we can talk about the Quantum Theory. First you need to eat dinner, though, you're far too thin already. " Frank stood up and walked over to the toddler.

"Your mother shouldn't have lost her temper like that, there are much nicer ways of getting points across, and she had no right to mess with what you were doing. I'm pretty sure she was worried about your well-being, but just didn't know how to get that across to you. Now, please finish your dinner so that I can read you more books." To Alice's amazement (and slight dismay), Cyrus actually started eating the food on his plate after Frank was done talking.

Alice did not speak for the rest of the meal, but Frank did manage to persuade Caelum to agree to teach Cyrus about computers in his free time. For the rest of his visit, Frank continued to talk to Cyrus about the universe, knowing that Cyrus could not fully comprehend what they were talking about quite yet, but sure that the toddler understood on some level. When it was time for Frank to go home, he left a few books for Cyrus to look at and understand better once he grew older.

As for Cyrus' computer lessons, Caelum actually followed through this time, and bought Cyrus a used computer for his room and started teaching his son how to use it. To Caelum's surprise, the boy caught on rather quickly, and was soon spending as much time as he possibly could on that computer. As a matter of fact, Caelum started to worry that his son was spending too much time working the computer and not enough time doing other activities. Alice, however, was simply glad that her child was staying out of her hair for the most part.


	3. Chapter 2: Disappointment

October 5, 1986

"And then the Pikachu went to live on the moon after saying goodbye to his friends," Mrs. Jeremy, a Kindergarten teacher, finished, showing the picture in the book that she was reading to the children. "Now, children, how did you like the story?"

Most of the children's reactions ranged from mildly interested to completely bored, but only one child, a blue-haired five-and-a-half-year-old, had something to say. "That book's wrong. There's no oxygen on the moon, so the Pikachu would die in a few minutes. Even if there was air on the moon, he would either freeze to death, burn to death, or die of thirst. You can't survive on the moon without some sort of high-tech space colony."

"Cyrus, this is a story, it doesn't have to be able to happen in real life." Mrs. Jeremy was getting a bit fed up with Cyrus' antics. Not only did he refuse to play with the other children at recess, he also had to question whatever information that she was giving him. However, it wouldn't be right to put him down for it, so Mrs. Jeremy took a breath and decided to be patient with the boy. She could take out her frustration with the boy's parents.

"No. This story is all wrong. My grandfather told me the real fairy tale, and it was about a Clefairy, not a Pikachu. The Clefairy was being told that he was all alone and that there was no other Pokémon like him. Then he found a giant Moonstone and used it to talk to his people, who came in a giant space ship and took him into space with them. The story came from the fact that many years ago, Clefairy came here from space." Cyrus finished his point, and looked back at the teacher triumphantly.

However, it seemed that the other children did not share Cyrus' sentiments, and burst into laughter shortly after his last sentence. "Space? Clefairy are Pokémon, they can't be from space, stupid!" One child managed to say between fits of giggles.

"I think Cyrus is really from space, that's why he's so weird," another boy snickered.

"That's enough from all of you, it's almost recess. Don't make fun of Cyrus, class. Cyrus, please let me tell the class stories, and if you want to say something after, keep it nice." The recess bell rang shortly after Mrs. Jeremy finished saying this, and Cyrus went into the schoolyard and headed straight to a secluded corner and sat down. Hopefully the other kids wouldn't bother him there.

* * *

February 11, 1987

"I got a report from your teacher today," stated Alice, taking a threatening step towards her son. "I hear that you can't stop contradicting everything she says. 'It's my class, not his. How are the students supposed to learn when one child questions everything I say?' That's what your teacher said."

"They all hate me. Why should I be nice to them when they won't be nice to me? Besides, the teacher tells us things that aren't true. Of course I'm going to correct her." Cyrus tried his best to look confident and unfazed, but that might not last long judging by the look on his mother's face.

"They hate you because you're a contrary little freak. The children all play outside, you sit in a corner and talk to yourself. The teacher tells you a story, and you pick out the flaws in it. When all the children are told to get into groups, you just stand there in the corner and insist that you can do the activity yourself."

Cyrus seemed to be standing his ground, but Alice knew she was getting to him. Whether her words would actually make an impact in the direction she wanted things to go, however, remained to be seen.

"What do you have to say for yourself? What's _wrong_ with you? When I was in Kindergarten, I _listened _to the teacher. I had _friends._ As for you? You're a weird little brat who just doesn't want to fit in. If you don't get your act together, you'll live the rest of your life being enemies with everybody. Is that what you want? Enemies?"

Cyrus considered his mother's words for a few seconds. "If everyone wants to be enemies with me, that's their choice. Besides, the other children only talk about subjects like sports and the toys and Pokémon that their parents bought them. None of it applies to me."

Alice slapped her hand to her face. What a stupid child, why wasn't Cyrus listening to anything she was saying? "You dumb little shit, they only hate you because you refuse to be normal! Can't you see the simple cause and effect of it, or is that above your level of functioning? Also, don't you even _dare _try to accuse me of being at fault here for not buying you toys, the last time I gave you a teddy bear you started talking to it like it was a person, you freak."

Cyrus really wasn't sure how to respond. Anything he could say would only serve to incriminate him further in his mother's eyes. Maybe she was right, maybe Cyrus was somehow the problem. Maybe he deserved his classmates' harassing and his mother's disapproval.

He was staring at the ground, it seemed as if Alice's words were sinking in. Maybe this conversation would make a positive change in Cyrus' behaviors after all? "That's right, this is all because of you and your refusal to fit in like a normal human being. I want you to do go your room and think about what I've just told you, and don't even bother to come down for dinner. Got it?"

As Cyrus trudged up to his room, Alice wondered what could possibly have happened along the way to make her son turn out to be such a disappointment.

* * *

November 17, 1987

"After that, the teacher said to give everyone else a chance to talk, but they didn't even know the answers. It seems like they don't even care about learning and just want to cause trouble.," Cyrus finished, watching his father unload some computer parts from a box that he had brought home that day.

"That can't be true, Cyrus, I'm sure that not all of them act like that. Sure, there's going to be a few kids in your class that don't get along with you, but I think that you're blowing all of this out of proportion. Why don't you try reaching out to one of the other kids for once? I'm sure they'd be really interested in what you have to say." Caelum was pretty fed up with Cyrus' seeming inability to make friends, but he wasn't giving up yet.

"They're not interested. I think they're jealous because I'm smarter than them. It's like they don't want to bother to work as hard as I do to learn what I know, and justify it by calling me a freak for going the extra length. They could easily fix the problem by doing what I do and learning how to do well in school, but they are either too stupid or too lazy to see the fault in their actions."

"Remember what I said about you blowing things out of proportion?" Caelum sighed, sorting the computer pieces that he had just unloaded from the box.

"I'm not exaggerating. I'm only pointing out the error in their ways," Cyrus responded defiantly. "My other classmates are calling me names and-"

"Now, I'm going to stop you right there. First of all, you're not that much smarter. The only reason that you're scoring well on tests is that you spend your time in your room doing research instead of playing outside with the other children your age. Even then, your mother and I got a pretty close grade point average to that, and we still found time to fit in."

"That's it, then. I have to push myself harder. I'll prove them wrong." Caelum must be right, Cyrus wasn't working hard enough.

"Cyrus, this isn't about... You know, why don't we just work on teaching you how to put this computer together, we can talk about this attitude of yours later.

This was one of the last computer lessons Cyrus had, as Caelum was soon too preoccupied with work to teach his son further. Cyrus, however, continued his study of mechanics in his own time.

* * *

September 3, 1988

"Hey, freak! Going somewhere?" Cyrus turned to see three other children, the same ones that had bullied him constantly since Kindergarten.

"I was intending to go to my home. If you know of a place that needs me more, please do tell me of it." Cyrus's sarcastic response was met with laughter by his persecutors.

"Do you know how to talk like a regular person? Or is that how they all talk on the planet you're from?" Bobby, the boy that seemed to lead the charge against Cyrus, never got tired of making jokes that Cyrus was some sort of extra-terrestrial.

"There is nothing wrong with the way I am speaking, and that so-called joke is getting rather stale. Now, please let me make my way home." If only Cyrus really were from another planet, he might have had a shot at getting back.

"Oh, then we're really sorry for your parents. I mean, imagine getting stuck raising this freak." Bobby nudged his friends, who quickly agreed with him.

"Yeah, imagine that. I bet when the stork delivered him, it dropped him on his head." Sally, Bobby's close friend said, snickering.

"You... Don't you _ever_ talk about anything to do with how I get along with my parents." Cyrus wondered why this was getting to him so much, but then it hit him. Bobby was right, Cyrus's parents really _did _hate him.

"Or you'll do what?" Bobby asked, clearly not worried about anything the skinny little seven-year-old could do to him or his two friends.

"Maybe he has mind control powers! Or a ray gun? Or... I know, he'll run us over with his spaceship!" Bobby's other friend, Donny, said before the three other children burst into laughter.

Cyrus had had enough. He was going to teach these young thugs a lesson, and he was going to do it right then. Cyrus took a threatening step forward, raised an arm, and...

"Get away from me, freak!" Bobby screamed, shoving Cyrus backwards before the blue-haired child could even try to land a hit.

The next thing Cyrus knew, he was lying in a pile of mud and looking up at his three tormenters, who were all looking down at him.

"Is he okay?" Donny asked, looking somewhat worried.

"Who cares?" Sally responded, who, unlike Donny, seemed rather unconcerned.

Bobby, however, was looking down at Cyrus with disgust. "Try to touch me again, freak, and you'll regret it. Sally, Donny, let's go. Leave him to think about what I just said."

Cyrus waited until Bobby and his friends had left to get to pick himself up and head home.

* * *

"What the hell are you doing to _my _carpet?"

The shrill voice quickly penetrated Cyrus' thoughts of how he was going to get back at Bobby and jolted him back to reality, where his mother was flipping her lid over the mud Cyrus had just tracked into the house. "It... Bobby pushed me into the dirt, he... I'm sorry, I was thinking about-"

"Shut the hell up, you. You _dare _to track that _filth _into my house and think you have the right to talk? You... mistake! That's right, you're a fucking _mistake, _you little shit_._ If the condom hadn't broken, the likes of you wouldn't be here." Alice was angrier than Cyrus had ever seen her, and even that was saying something.

As for the fact Cyrus was a mistake? That was no news, Caelum had told Cyrus that his birth had been an accident during their last computer lesson.

Okay, Cyrus, don't say a thing, you'll just make it worse for yourself. Don't... "That's what you want, isn't it? You don't want me to exist."

SMACK! Cyrus was knocked backwards into the floor with the force of his mother's slap.

Cyrus stared up at his mother for a few seconds, in shock that she had actually hit him. After all, she had always told him to be above violence, and that it didn't really become people.

"Yeah, that's right you little freak, I just hit you! Don't look at me like that, you know damn well that you deserved it. If you don't get out _right now, _I'll do it again, too. Got it, scum?"

Cyrus didn't need telling twice. He removed his shoes as quickly as he could, then tore through the house and towards the shower.

No, it was going to be okay, his mother would never hit him again, Cyrus thought desperately, trying his best to fight back tears, and soon failing to do so.

It wasn't the last time she hit him, not by far.


	4. Chapter 3: Iron

May 26, 1989

RIIIING! The final bell of the day rang out, signalling the end of school and time for Cyrus to walk home and sneak around his mother and into his room.

"Before you go, I want Bobby and Cyrus to stay back here," the teacher called as the children started filing out the door.

Cyrus had a feeling as to what this might be about. "Bobby, I've gotten word that you three might be bothering Cyrus. Is this true?" Bothering? Bobby and his group may not have been violent to the extent that Cyrus' mother often was, but they certainly were doing more that just "bothering" him now.

"No, ma'am. As a matter of fact, we invite him into our games whenever we get the chance, but sometimes Cyrus gets a little too exited and trips or runs into things," Bobby answered in a serious tone, which seemed to contrast the smirk on his face. The teacher seemed to be getting the same message, judging by her raised eyebrow.

"Really now? That doesn't fit the reports I've been getting, so I'll let Cyrus speak." Okay, this was Cyrus' chance to get Bobby and his friends to leave Cyrus alone.

However, as soon as Cyrus was about to speak, he realized something. What if the teacher told his mother that Cyrus was letting the other children push him around? He could just hear his mother talking and telling him how he was such a failure for making the other children into enemies, going on about how this was all his fault. It would surely end in yet another beating.

"It's true. Bobby was kind enough to invite me to play with him and his friends, and we often play rough. I'm sorry you were troubled about this incident." Bobby nodded as Cyrus finished speaking, while their teacher thought this over.

Bobby may have been acting slightly suspiciously, but Cyrus seemed genuinely sincere. Maybe this was all a huge misunderstanding. Still, she had one more question for Cyrus.

"Bobby, you may go. Cyrus, I would like you to stay for a short while longer. Don't worry, you're not in trouble."

Cyrus watched Bobby leave the room, sensing the triumphant air around the other boy. "Yes, what did you want from me?"

The teacher pointed to a particularly nasty-looking bruise on Cyrus' arm. "Was that really from playing with the other children?"

"Yes. I hit my arm on a street pole while we were playing tag," Cyrus answered flatly. The truth was that the bruise was from his mother punching him, but Cyrus figured that he would be much better off if she didn't know that.

Cyrus' teacher gazed at him with an almost-pitying expression, but the blue-haired child's expression remained neutral. Cyrus had learned that if he kept a perfectly straight face in front of his mother, she would have one less reason to be angry at him. This of course was useful for other purposes, especially when Cyrus needed to lie.

"All right. I believe you. Just remember, though, that if anyone's bothering or hurting you, you don't have to be afraid to tell me. I'm here to help you." Cyrus simply nodded at this, he knew that the telling the truth about his situation would do more harm than good.

* * *

July 10, 1990

It wasn't that Cyrus was having trouble with his mechanical skills, oh no. The boy knew how to make gadgets and put together computers with enough skill that most professionals would be impressed with his skills. "Most professionals" unfortunately did not include his father, and that's where the trouble was.

Just a few more screws and Cyrus could move on to the next part of creating- Wait, was that a knock on the door? It had to be his mother, Cyrus' father almost never came up to Cyrus' room anymore. Cyrus wondered what she was here to punish him for this time, for all he knew it might not be his fault at all, but that by no means meant that he wouldn't be punished for it.

"Son, I'm here to have a talk with you." Hang on. That wasn't his mother's voice at all, but what would Cyrus' father want to talk to him about? Could Cyrus finally be about to get some praise for the work he had done on his own? No, of course not, Cyrus was simply getting his hopes up and setting himself up for disappointment.

Cyrus opened the door and let Caelum walk into his room, and sure enough, the man's expression was one of unmistakable disdain. "Do you ever clean up in here? This room's a mess. How do you even sleep in this place, it looks like a hurricane's been through here."

"I have everything organized perfectly, it only looks messy due to the lack of space in my room in comparison to the amount of objects that are here," Cyrus replied flatly.

"It's not only the mess that I'm concerned about. You spend nearly every waking hour that you're not in school in this room. You couldn't possibly be spending any of this time on homework, it's Summer. Go outside, play with the other kids, get some fresh air for god's sake! Staying shut inside your room all day will only alienate you further from the kids your age."

"The more I stay here, the less mother can yell at me for. Besides, I'm learning important skills here." Of course, there was also the little problem of the other children all either ostracizing or bullying Cyrus, but that was a detail that Cyrus didn't need his parents to know.

"Son, do you not see the connection? Here, I'll spell it out for you. You don't spend time with the other children, you become more disconnected with the human race. The more disconnected you become, the more reason your mother sees to punish you. This is a simple matter of cause and effect."

Caelum didn't see how Cyrus could understand how to put computers together and still not be able to figure out how his behavior was the cause of his problems. It was like putting a ten-thousand piece jigsaw puzzle together quickly, then being given a four-piece one and not being able to do it.

The situation, of course, was not that simple, especially since there were facts that Cyrus was omitting. Still, Cyrus listened and decided that it would be best if he didn't protest further.

"One more thing before I leave, it's about your report card. You only got a B- in Physical Education, which doesn't surprise me, but also in Writing. What's the story there?" The truth was that Cyrus' teacher had given Cyrus a B- mainly for turning a book report in a few days late due to the fact Bobby and his friends had taken the original out of Cyrus' backpack, read it aloud, and ripped it up.

"I lost one of my papers after I left my backpack open and the report fell out," Cyrus answered instead.

Caelum responded to this by shaking his head. "Be more careful, then. Besides, this might not have happened if you had friends, as one of them might have seen and caught the paper as it was falling. At any rate, I don't have any more time to waste lecturing you, I have work to do, and you're obviously not taking anything I have to say to heart."

With that said, Caelum turned around and walked out the door without another word.

* * *

October 14, 1990

"What do you want?" Alice snarled at her son as he walked into the room. "Can't you see that I'm trying to iron your clothes? Something which, I may add, I wouldn't have to do so much if you would take better care of them and hang them up when you go to bed instead of _sleeping in them._ I bought you pajamas for that exact reason, can't you do anything right?"

"I'm sorry," Cyrus responded. "I was just here to tell you that we're almost out of food, but I'll wait until you're in a better frame of mind to ask you again." Cyrus then made to walk out of the room.

Before Cyrus could even reach the door, however, Alice whipped around and pointed directly at her son. "Don't you leave the room. I heard that little comment, freak. What have I told you about using that passive-aggressive bitching with me? Huh?"

"I belive you are taking this the wrong way," Cyrus replied cooly, his eyes fixed on hers. "I was simply stating that I was going to-"

"Was I asking you for an excuse? Of course not, I was asking you for a simple apology. What do I get instead? A pathetic excuse, that's what! I- **Hey!**Don't you _dare _run away from me!" Alice grabbed Cyrus' arm as the boy tried to sneak out of the room and pulled him towards her.

"Don't you ever, _ever_ walk away from me when I'm talking." Alice was now bending down with the iron is one hand and maintaining a death-grip on her son's arm with the other.

"Got it, you little shit?" Alice was getting spit on Cyrus' face with nearly every word she screamed, as her face was now mere inches from her son's.

"I can't win." Cyrus stated, eyes still locked on his mother's furious glare. "You'll just use anything that I say against me. That's the way it is with you, you've put it in your mind that you don't want me here, and nothing I say or do will change that."

For the first time Cyrus could remember, his mother seemed utterly speechless. Alice simply stood completely still, glaring at her son as if this was a staring contest rather than an argument.

Then, Alice's gaze left Cyrus and slowly trailed to the iron clutched in her right hand, and then back to her son. Next, her expression slowly changed, her mouth closing and her thin lips turning upwards into an unmistakable sneer.

Cyrus suddenly realized what was coming, and tried as hard as he could to pull away from his mother, but her grip on his arm was too strong.

"Trying to run away?" Cyrus turned around to catch a split-second glimpse of his mother's deranged grin before she brought the iron down on his forehead. Searing, burning pain, worse than anything Cyrus could have possibly expected, followed.

Cyrus barely registered the fact that he was screaming in agony over the white-hot pain of the iron, then some other noise, was that his mother? He had to do something, anything, to make the pain stop.

Suddenly, Cyrus could see light again, the pain was lessening. Everything was blurry, but Cyrus could certainly see that the iron was no longer pressed to his forehead. What had happened? The world was starting to blur again, the pain was still unbearable. Cyrus had to get away, had to run, or else his mother would... would... and then everything went black.

"You knocked me over you little shit! I told you to stop kicking, but you wouldn't listen! Now you've made me trip, unplugged the iron, and-"

"_Alice._"

The green-haired woman turned sharply about, looking for the person who had just said her name.

"What the _fuck _just happened here, woman?! I come home to hear you throwing a shitfit, and our son is laying unconscious on the floor next to you. Are- what is that on his face?" Caelum stared wide-eyed between the gruesome white patch above his son's eyes and the iron on the floor, then back to his wife.

"Did you... the iron... what in god's name will we tell the neighbors? His school? Listen Alice, if one single person finds out about this, there will be hell to pay. Social services will come, you might even be put in jail! Wha... What have you _done?"_

Alice, however, simply gazed back, the realization of what she had just done finally sinking in. "Okay, Caelum, calm yourself down... it's going to be okay. Alice, we're going to get out of this, trust me. First, we need to take care of Cyrus on our own, taking him to a hospital would result in more questions."

Alice nodded, but didn't seem to be listening. That was okay, Caelum could explain his plan to her later. For now, he needed to work on treating his son's burn.


	5. Chapter 4: Kindness

October 7, 1990

"Let me get this straight; your son was working with computer parts, when something caught fire and burned his face, and now you've decided to take him to me instead of a hospital." Frank glanced skeptically between Alice and the bandages wrapped around his grandson's head. The story seemed a little fishy, but Frank wasn't going to deny it outright, as he wanted to maintain a good relationship with his daughter-in-law.

"Yes, that is the story. From what he said to me, the flames shot upwards, and it wasn't too bad of a burn. If I took him to the hospital, they might think that Caelum and I were being irresponsible parents, even though we were only teaching him independence. After all, this is only the first time that this has happened, but you know how those nosy people at hospitals act."

Something was telling Frank that believing Alice wasn't a good idea, but he wasn't sure what other choices he had. If he flat-out accused her of lying, she might take her son back home and never call or speak to Frank again, which would ruin Frank's plans to spend more time with his grandson.

"So, when are you going to fly back for him? Or would you rather I wait until the burn heals and contact you then?"

"Wait until the burn heals, then I'll buy him a plane ticket. He can fly back on his own, he's old enough. Bye Cyrus, be good for your grandfather." With that, Alice turned around and walked back to her rental car, without even kissing her son goodbye.

"Let's go inside, Cyrus." Frank made to take Cyrus' hand and lead him into the house, but as soon as Frank reached out to do so, the boy recoiled and raised his hands in front of his face.

What had Alice and Caelum done to the poor boy? "It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you. Just follow me."

"Okay." Cyrus nodded politely and followed his grandfather into his house.

"I know it's a good bit smaller than the house you're used to, but I'm sure you'll settle here just fine." Frank was about to clap Cyrus on the shoulder like he used to to with Caelum, but remembered the boy's reaction to simply trying to take his hand and refrained.

"Cyrus, have you been getting enough to eat?" Frank asked, noting how thin the boy's arms, legs, and waist looked despite the slightly baggy clothes covering them.

"Yes, so long as I act appropriately." Punishment by starvation? How barbaric. Besides, Frank had the slightest feeling that Cyrus wasn't being fed well no matter how well he behaved.

"Well, you aren't going to starve here no matter how badly you behave. Wait, that wasn't an invitation to misbehave now, don't take that the wrong way." Frank started chuckling at this, but quickly stopped when Cyrus didn't as much as smile.

"All right, I'm going to put out some food. Do you want anything specific?" Cyrus shook his head at his grandfather's question, so Frank started taking out bread from the cupboard and ham, cheese, tomato, lettuce, and some condiments from the fridge.

"Hmm, needs more fruit," Frank commented after placing the food on the kitchen table.

"Here, take your pick while I prepare the sandwiches," Frank said, moving a bowl filled with various fruit from the counter to the table.

Cyrus glanced at the bowl for a few seconds before taking an apple out of it.

"There you go, eat that while I make the sandwiches." Frank gave Cyrus a smile, but wasn't surprised when the boy didn't return it.

However, when Frank looked up after he was finished making the sandwiches, his grandson was still staring at the apple wtih a glazed look in his eyes.

"Come on, don't worry. I haven't poisoned it, you know. I may be old, but I'm certainly not a witch." Again, not even the slightest hint of a smile from the boy, nor did Cyrus take a bite of the apple.

"Okay, how about a sandwich? Here." Frank placed one of the plates of sandwich in front of Cyrus, hoping that it would be more of a hit than the apple.

Cyrus picked up the sandwich and stared at it indecisively for a moment before finally making up his mind and taking a bite.

"Now that's better, for a moment there, I thought you weren't going to eat anything at- whoa there, slow down, I never said that this was an eating competition. You'll make yourself sick!"

Cyrus paused with most of the second half of the sandwich stuffed in his mouth and looked guiltily back at his grandfather. The truth was that Cyrus had picked up this habit from sneaking food at home, as there were times where his mother wouldn't feed him for a day or even more.

If Cyrus was quick enough, he could often take out food from a cupboard, the refrigerator, or even the freezer, and eat it as well as put everything back the way it was before his mother noticed. The fact that Cyrus usually had less than a minute to eat at school before Bobby or one of his friends found him and kicked his lunch into the dirt or threw it out certainly encouraged this habit, too.

"No, it's okay, Cyrus. I'm just asking you to please slow down a bit, I don't want you to end up with a stomachache. I'm not going to punish you, don't worry." Cyrus nodded and bit off the rest of the sandwich instead of shoving it in his mouth like he seemed about to do before.

"Aren't you going to eat yours?" Cyrus asked shortly after finishing the last piece of his sandwich.

"No, I've already had my dinner. This is for you as well, I didn't know how hungry you were. Want it?" Frank pushed the dish with the sandwich nearer to Cyrus.

Cyrus started on the sandwich without another word, not seeming to be taking Frank's request that he eat more slowly into account, but the older man decided that it might be best if he not point it out again.

"Are you done? Don't worry about the dishes, I'll do those for you in a moment. I set up a bed for you in my study room, I'll have Clara show you there now." Frank took out and clicked open a Pokeball on his belt, revealing a small pink fairy-like Pokémon.

"Is that a... Clefairy?" For the first time since Cyrus had arrived with his mother an hour ago, Frank caught the faintest hint of a smile on the boy's face.

"Indeed she is. Clara, meet my one and only grandson, Cyrus. Cyrus, meet Clara, my biggest helper when it comes to my studies. She used to help me when I taught at Resort College, which is South of here. Clara, could you show Cyrus to the room we set up for him?" The Clefairy chirped cheerfully and beckoned for Cyrus to follow her.

Clara lead Cyrus into a small hallway with two doors facing each other at the end, and pushed open the left one. Cyrus followed her into a room whose many shelves were lined with books with titles like "Time and Space: What You Didn't Know About the Fabric of the Universe" and "Quantum Physics: Exploring Infinite Possibilities". Cyrus would have to ask his grandfather if he could look at them later.

For now, however, it was late, and Cyrus hadn't gotten any sleep next to his mother on the aircraft they had taken. Cyrus sat down and slipped into the makeshift bed that his grandfather had set up using a thin foam mattress and some blankets and quickly fell asleep.

* * *

"Good morning, Cyrus. How did you sleep?" Frank asked Cyrus as the boy walked into his living room. Cyrus looked slightly more well-rested than he had the night before, but there were still dark circles around his eyes.

"I slept fine, thank you," Cyrus answered. This was partially true, as Cyrus had slept better and longer than he usually did at home, but not without waking up a few times during the night.

"I put some cereal out on the table for you, feel free to help yourself. I would have made you pancakes, but I'm completely out of flour at the moment. We could go out for breakfast some time this week if you want, but it'd be a pretty long drive to the nearest diner."

Cyrus took a seat at the table and studied each of the cereal boxes individually before deciding on the one containing corn flakes.

"I cut up some strawberries this morning in case you wanted some fruit in your cereal," Frank said, placing a small bowl containing the cut-up strawberries next to Cyrus' cereal bowl, which the boy had already prepared and was about to start on.

"You don't have to take them if you don't want them." It appeared, however, that Cyrus did indeed want the strawberries, as he dumped the entire bowl of them into his cereal.

It ended up that Cyrus didn't even need to ask his grandfather to read his books, as Frank offered to teach the boy about the workings of the universe shortly after breakfast.

Over the next week, Frank not only shared his books and his knowledge of the science of the universe, which Cyrus seemed to really enjoy and catch onto quickly, he also took the boy on trips into the outside world. The sandstorms in the desert area where Frank lived were a bit hard to get used to for Cyrus at first, but being pelted with sand was certainly preferable to Alice's beatings.

Some time during the second week, Frank decided to make good on his word to take Cyrus to a diner for breakfast.

"Cyrus, there's something I want to discuss with you when we get back to my house today. Don't worry, you're not in trouble, I just have a few questions for you. Here, want some syrup with those pancakes?" Frank held up a glass syrup bottle, but Cyrus shook his head.

"Okay, just don't forget to drink your orange juice."

"What did you want to ask me?" Cyrus questioned as he and Frank walked into the house.

"Cyrus, I want you to answer this truthfully. Do you understand?" Frank bent down slightly and looked directly into his grandson's pale blue eyes.

"I understand." Cyrus answered, returning his grandfather's gaze.

"All right. First of all, I want to hear in your own words how you got that burn. Your mother told me that you were working with computer parts when it happened. Is this true?"

"Yes," Cyrus answered, not breaking eye contact. "I wasn't being careful enough and the parts caught fire for a few seconds."

Sure, Cyrus wasn't giving any outright hints of lying, but something about the way he was looking at Frank gave him the vaguest sensation that the boy was wasn't quite telling the truth.

"Speaking of which, I think it's time to change those bandages. Here, I'll help you this time." Frank and Cyrus then walked into the bathroom, where the medical supplies were being kept.

Frank sat Cyrus down on the side of the bathtub and proceeded to gingerly remove the bandages from the boy's head.

"It wasn't too bad of a burn," isn't that what Alice had said? Yeah, maybe if you compared it with a forest fire it wouldn't look too bad. The question was, why would Alice try to cover up the severity of the burn if it wasn't really her fault in the first place?

The answer was simple, Alice must have caused it. Whether it was on purpose or by accident, Frank had already figured one thing out; Alice was a terrible parent. She had acted rather dismissive when saying goodbye to her son for a few weeks, she obviously hit and even starved her son to punish him, and she somehow inflicted a third-degree burn on him and tried to cover up for herself, even persuading the boy to lie.

This, however, brought up a new question. What could Frank do about this? His first thought was to call child protective services, but then what? What if Alice somehow convinced social services that she wasn't abusing the boy? From what Frank knew about Alice, she really had a way with words. Besides, if Alice knew Frank had been the one to call, she would make sure to keep Cyrus away from Frank.

On the other hand, what if child services _did _take Cyrus away from his parents? Would Cyrus really have a better life? What if nobody wanted to adopt him? What if he ended up with even worse parents?

Suddenly, something else occurred to Frank. What if he took the boy in his house? If he could either talk Alice into giving Cyrus up, or get social services involved, he just might be able to do it.

However, Frank realized that he had neither the space in his house nor the money to raise the child. Besides, the nearest elementary school was a pretty far drive, and Frank didn't even think that there were even school buses around his house.

"There, the new bandages are on. Are you doing all right, or do you need some more pain medication?" It seemed that as much as Frank wanted to rescue his grandson from the boy's current situation, the more realistic solution would be to just leave things the way they were.

"I'll be fine," Cyrus replied simply. Fine. Would the boy end up being "fine"? Was Frank really making the right decision? Only time would tell.


	6. Chapter 5: The Crow

June 7, 1992

"Hey, if it isn't the freak without eyebrows!"

Cyrus didn't even need to turn around to know that Bobby was about to give him a beating, he could tell by the other boy's voice. Cyrus' only shot at getting out of this would be to run as fast as his legs could carry him.

"You better run faster, freak, your spaceship is about to take off!" Judging by the apparent distance of Bobby's voice, Cyrus wasn't going to make it home before Bobby caught him.

Sure enough, Cyrus felt something tugging on his backpack and promptly fell backwards as Bobby pulled him to the ground.

"Too slow, your spaceship already left. Guess you'll have to play with us instead, freak." Bobby laughed and kicked Cyrus in the arm.

"Hey, you guys want to join in? Space Freak's not going to beat himself up, you know." Bobby called to his friends, who were now standing around Cyrus in a circle.

While Bobby was temporarily distracted, Cyrus took this opportunity to slip out of Bobby's grip and start running again. However, this escape was short-lived, as one of the other kids soon caught Cyrus as he tried to push his way out of the group.

"Going somewhere?" The boy who had grabbed Cyrus asked while shoving the blue-haired boy into a street pole.

"Yeah, you hold him like that while I sock him in the face for trying to run like a coward." Bobby now walked up to Cyrus with a confident smirk on his face while the other kids jeered.

"Yeah, that'll teach him to act like a freak!"

"Let's see how confident he acts in class after you break his nose!"

"Go, get him!"

"Ready to hurt, freak?" Bobby asked, positively grinning. "That is, if freaks like you can even feel pain."

Cyrus quickly turned his head to avoid getting hit squarely in the nose, but the hit never came. Instead, there was a loud squawking sound as something black flew past Cyrus' face by inches and slammed into Bobby.

The kid holding Cyrus screamed and released his grip, letting Cyrus step away to get a better look at the situation. It seemed that a very angry Murkrow was mercilessly attacking the other children and sending them scattering.

Cyrus wasn't completely sure why this was happening, but figured that this had to be the Murkrow's nesting area, and the bird was simply defending a nest. If that were the case, it would certainly be a good idea for Cyrus to leave before the bird attacked him as well.

Once Cyrus had gotten a good distance from the group, however, he heard someone, or something, walking behind him. Turning around, Cyrus saw what seemed to be the same Murkrow following him. Oddly enough, it showed no signs of the hostility it had exhibited before with the other children.

"You weren't protecting me back there, were you?" Cyrus asked the bird, not expecting the Pokémon to understand a word he was saying.

To Cyrus' surprise, however, the Murkrow nodded back at him. Cyrus had never expected any Pokémon to understand human speech in any circumstance. This was curious, very curious.

Still, a Pokémon was a Pokémon, and if Cyrus' mother caught him socializing with one there would be hell to pay. Cyrus turned back around and started walking again, not wanting to get in trouble for being late on top of having dirty clothes.

Cyrus only got a few steps before he felt a tugging on the back of his pant legs, and was not at all surprised to see the bird when he turned around.

"I can't take you home. Go back to your flock." The Murkrow, however, only tilted its head at this, as if not quite understanding that Cyrus didn't want it to come with him.

"I'm not letting you in, you're probably covered in pathogens. Leave me alone." Cyrus started walking again, but the bird still didn't get the message.

"My mother won't tolerate Pokémon in her house, you have to leave. I'll go to my home, and you go to yours. Understand?" At this, the Murkrow finally flew off.

As Cyrus walked up the steps to his parents' house, he wondered if he would ever see the bird again.

Oh and how he would.

* * *

June 10, 1992

There, now that the final touches for the night were done, Cyrus could work on his newest device tomorrow. However, when Cyrus turned out the lights and was about to climb into bed, something directly outside the window caught his eye.

That something was a Murkrow perched on a tree branch outside the window. Could it be the same one from three days ago? No, Murkrows were not an uncommon sight around Sunyshore, it could easily be a different bird.

Cyrus climbed into bed to get some sleep, but shortly after he closed his eyes, he heard a tapping on the window. Was that the wind blowing the tree branch into the window? No, it didn't sound like it at all, it was a different type of tapping.

Cyrus sat up in bed to see what was making that racket, and sure enough, there was a Murkrow tapping its beak on the window.

"Go away," Cyrus said, waving his hands near the window in case the bird didn't hear or understand what he was saying.

The Murkrow, however, did not fly away, but rather stayed on the branch next to the window gazing at Cyrus with its head tilted. Oh well, maybe Cyrus should just go back to sleep and forget about the bird.

However, as soon as Cyrus put his head back on his pillow to sleep, the bird resumed tapping on the window as if it wanted Cyrus to let it inside. It seemed to be time for action.

Cyrus once again sat up in bed, but this time he cracked the window open just enough to stick his hand out. Thinking this was an invitation to come in, the Murkrow hopped closer to the window.

"Shoo," Cyrus stated harshly, pushing the bird away with his hand. This finally seemed to get the message across to the bird, and the Murkrow cawed once and flew off.

Finally Cyrus could get some sleep.

However, the Murkrow was far more persistent than Cyrus had originally given it credit for. Every night after the first, the little Murkrow would show up at Cyrus' window and tap at the glass, and every night Cyrus would shoo it away.

One night, Cyrus did not hear the Murkrow tapping against the window as he climbed into bed. Had the bird given up on him? That would be for the better, as Cyrus' house was no place for a Pokémon, and it was only a matter of time before Alice learned of what was going on and started yelling at him for it.

Still, maybe it would be a good idea if Cyrus decided to look outside the window to see if the bird really was gone. That Murkrow seemed to persistent to just fly off and never show up again.

Sure enough, the Murkrow was sitting on the same branch outside Cyrus' window. Cyrus decided to try to shoo it again, but something was holding him back. It then occurred to Cyrus that no matter how many times he would try to shoo the bird, it would just come back.

After one more glance at the Murkrow, Cyrus laid back in bed, pulled the covers back over himself, and went to sleep.


End file.
